Lean On Me
by cowswithmoostaches
Summary: When Castiel appears in Dean's motel room, belly torn to shreds, the boys have to nurse him back to health. But how will Cas repay the favor when something happens to Dean? Rated T for mild swearing, alcohol references, and slight gore.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Dean sat on the edge of the cheap motel bed, his head in his hands, muttering to himself. Sam was out getting supplies (including pie—the most essential), leaving Dean to the thoughts that were echoing in his head. He didn't really know what he was saying, he was just babbling about every thought that crossed his mind. Suddenly, there was the telltale rustle of feathers, and Dean stood, whipping around, only to see a very bloody, almost shirtless Castiel, falling to the ground. His shirt was almost completely torn apart, and he had deep gashes everywhere in his stomach. Dean ran and caught him before he hit the ground, lifting him onto the closest bed. For an angel, he seemed to be losing way too much blood.

"Cas, what the hell happened to you?" Dean asked, trying not to show his worry. When Cas tried to talk, blood gushed from his mouth, and he coughed, trying to get it out. Just before he passed out, Cas managed to utter a single word—angels.

When Sam got to the room with the groceries, Dean was pacing back and forth in front of the bed that Cas was resting on. As soon as he saw the injured body and the trenchcoat, Sam dropped the bags and ran to his side.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked frantically, checking Castiel's pulse. "He's got a pulse, but it's pretty faint. Why didn't he just heal himself?"

"I asked him what happened, but all he managed to say was 'angels.' Sammy, I don't know what to think... What should we do?" Dean asked, unable to control the complete worry he had for the angel. Sam shook his head, shrugging, with a pained expression on his face.

"I have no idea. I guess we just wait for him to wake up," Sam suggested, and Dean nodded, looking defeated. That night, while Sam slept, Dean tossed and turned, all the while thinking about Cas. Finally, when he had had enough, he looked at the clock, and upon seeing that it was 3:43am, he sighed and got up, throwing a shirt on and going to sit next to Cas's sleeping body. It freaked Dean out that he was even asleep, seeing as angels don't sleep at all, normally. Cas was shirtless except for the bloodstained bandages that were wrapped around his stomach. His trenchcoat and suit coat were folded neatly next to the bed, but his shirt and tie were both too damaged to ever wear again, so Sam had thrown them away.

Praying that Cas wouldn't awaken, Dean began unraveling the bandages, a fresh set next to him. Once he got the old ones off, he tossed them right in the trash, before cringing and assessing the damage before him. It looked like he'd been slashed repeatedly by some sort of blade, or maybe large claws had raked down his torso. There were six gashes in a row, all the same length, but some deeper than the others. Blood was still oozing slowly out of the deeper wounds, so Dean got a wet dishcloth and began gently cleaning the cuts until the bleeding stopped. When he was finished with that, he began wrapping the clean bandages around the angel's torso, making sure they were tight, but not too tight.

As he did this, he whispered things to Cas, knowing full well that he couldn't hear a word the hunter was saying.

"Cas... I don't know why anyone would do this to you. I'm so sorry, man. I think you're gonna need stitches for these—it looks pretty damn bad. I know we shouldn't take you to a hospital, but right now it's looking like that's our only option. I won't let you die, I can't. You're going to be fine, Cas. I know it."

Dean sat with him until the sun came up the next morning, and when Sam awoke, he found Dean asleep, lying across Castiel's legs. Sam's eyes traveled along Cas's body, seeing that there were fresh bandages on his torso. He also saw that Cas's eyes were open, and he was looking at Dean's sleeping form with a surprised and sort of confused expression.

"You know, you can wake him up if you want," Sam suggested amusedly, sitting up. Cas looked at him, relieved. He shook Dean's shoulder roughly, to which Dean responded by opening his eyes and then jumping up off of the bed.

"Shit! Cas, I'm so sorry! I was just changing your bandages last night and I must have fallen asleep," Dean explain frantically, "Wait a sec... You're awake!" he exclaimed, before sitting back down next to the dark-haired man.

"How do you feel? And what can you tell us about what happened?" Sam asked gently, getting up and pulling his jacket on.

"Well, other than the severe pain from the gashes in my stomach, I seem to be okay, physically," Cas stated matter-of-factly, "And, well... I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I do know that the angel who attacked me took away my ability to heal myself before they did anything. They definitely knew what they were doing. They wanted me dead. I still have no idea how I got away."

"Do you know who did it? Can't angels sense the identities of other angels when they're nearby?" Dean asked gruffly, to which Cas nodded.

"Normally, that's the case. But whoever attacked me didn't want me to know who they were. They masked their identity with some sort of spell, making it so that I couldn't tell who it was. It could have been anyone."

Dean sighed and shook his head, annoyed. "Whoever it was, I'll kill 'em," he threatened. Cas shook his head.

"How would you find out who it was? There wasn't a single distinguishing feature. Even their human form was masked in disguise, and it might not have even been their vessel. It could have been any human that they were possessing."

"Well, either way, at least we know that we have to keep you safe and out of sight. Hex bags maybe?" Sam suggested, and Dean nodded. "You do that, Sammy. I'll take a look at these wounds, make sure he doesn't need stitches or anything." Sam tried to protest, but Dean looked at him sternly. "Sam, go. I've stitched up enough wounds in my time. I'll make sure he's okay." Sam sighed and left the room, grabbing the car keys from the table by the door. Dean gingerly unwrapped the bandages after helping Cas sit up, which proved to be a difficult and painful task for the both of them.

"Ooh, damn. These look pretty bad... I think I'll have to do stitches on all of these, or else they'll get infected," Dean explained, and Cas nodded. Dean got up and retrieved the first aid kit, containing a flask of whiskey, which he handed to Cas. Cas downed the liquid in one go, seemingly not affected by it. Dean sighed and dug around in their duffle bag, pulling out a full bottle of Jack Daniel's. "Here, drink the whole thing. Then maybe the pain will be numbed a little," Dean told the angel, handing him the bottle. Cas downed the bottle, only looking a little tipsy when he was finished. He shrugged, tossing the bottle onto the floor. Dean sighed. "I guess that'll just have to do."

After pouring some alcohol into the wounds to keep infection away, causing a bit of a shocked scream from Cas, Dean began sewing, using a bent surgical needle to make it easier. One hole at a time, slowly, Dean sewed the first wound tight. Cas was fisting the blankets of the bed tightly, his eyes screwed up in pain. When Dean was finished with the first of six, Cas relaxed, sweating. Dean cleaned his hands of the new, fresh blood, letting Cas rest. When he got back to work, he took off his leather belt and folded it in half, placing it between Cas's teeth so that he could bite down against the pain.

Dean hated having to do something so painful to the angel, the angel who had never really felt that much pain before. Before this other angel had taken away his powers, he hadn't really felt pain. But now, the pain was probably incredibly severe. But Dean knew what had to be done, so he set to work once more, his fingers steady and his mind on one thing: keeping Cas safe. Just as Dean finished tying the knot on the last stitch, Sam walked in, two hex bags in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. Dean looked at him, taking the hex bags and stuffing both of them in Cas's pockets. "What's in the bag?" he asked, after doing so.

Sam opened the bag and took out a bottle of Jack Daniel's, a six-pack of beer, and a slice of chocolate walnut pie. "Pie!" Dean exclaimed, grabbing it quickly. The beer was placed into the fridge, and the whiskey bottle passed around by the three of them. Cas was last to get the bottle, since they all knew he'd probably want the majority of the alcohol. They were right about that. He drank the entire thing, becoming more tipsy and very sleepy afterwards. Sam chuckled, and they let the man sleep, going just outside the motel room so that they could talk. They sat on the hood of the Impala, looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Do you think he's gonna be okay?" Dean asked. Sam looked at him, eyes narrowed.

"You've been awfully nervous about him, Dean. What's up? You never freak out this much," Sam inquired. Dean shrugged.

"I just hate the fact that someone could ever do something like this to someone so innocent. I mean he's so weak and helpless now, and it doesn't matter who he is, because if anyone that we knew was stuck like that, I wouldn't be able to bear it. I guess I just care about the guy more than I thought."

"That's really sweet, Dean. Who knew you could actually be kind-hearted once in a while?" Sam joked. Dean scoffed and punched his brother playfully in the arm. They laughed together, and then just sat, watching the clouds go by. They talked, for the first time in a while. They talked about the car, about Dean's love for pie, about old hunts, about their father, about anything except Cas. Before they knew it, the sun came out, the the clouds dispersed, making the day quite hot. And sitting on the hood of a black car wasn't really helping, either. The boys decided to go back into the air-conditioned motel room, that way Dean could enjoy some Magic Fingers and Sam could do some research on how to get Castiel's powers back.

When they walked back into the room, Cas was sitting up, his suit coat and trenchcoat on, but his stomach and chest showing, since his shirt had been ruined. Sam laughed at the angel when he saw him, surprised at the attire. "Wow... It's a good look for you, man," Sam chuckled. Dean raised an eyebrow at the sight, also unable to hold back a giggle.

"Cas... I'm so sorry," Dean said, before bursting into peals of laughter. "I'll have to get you a new shirt... For now, you can just wear one of mine," Dean offered, and Cas nodded, thanking him. Dean dug around in a black duffle bag until he came across his favourite Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which Cas graciously accepted, taking his two coats off to pull the shirt over his head. It was a little bit big on him, but it fit him well enough, and it would work until they could get to a store to get him a new dress shirt and tie to go with the clothes he already had.

When that was done, the three men were standing in a crappy motel room on a Tuesday afternoon with nothing to do. So what better to do than lay down and enjoy the Magic Fingers? As Dean laid back and enjoyed the vibrations, he felt weird, so he looked up to find Cas standing over him, his head tilted, confused. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked, his eyes narrowing in that way they do when he's confused.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm being massaged by my bed. It feels really nice, you know," Dean explained, "You're welcome to join me. It might help with all of the stress you've been feeling from the attack."

Cas shrugged, deciding that he had nothing to lose, and laid down on the bed next to Dean, feeling the vibrations through his body. It felt nothing like a real massage would, but at the moment, it was the best he was going to get, and it felt pretty damn good anyway. He laid down with stiff limbs, but as he got more into it, he let his muscles relax, feeling himself sink into the mattress. Before he knew it, his hands were under his head, his eyes were closed, and his legs had fallen open when he relaxed them, putting him in a position that nobody had ever seen him in before.

Dean cracked open one eye to look at him, and grinned when he saw how comfortable the angel looked. He had never seen Cas look so utterly relaxed in his life. Content with what he saw, Dean closed his eyes again, giving in to the vibrations. Images danced in front of his eyes, moments in time. The memory of having to sew Cas's torn flesh up, of falling asleep on top of his legs, of watching the angel fight in their previous battles together, of their first meeting, of the bright blue eyes in contrast to the grey days that they had faced. Images of _Cas._ Before he knew what was happening, Dean was falling asleep, just barely dozing off. However, he could still feel every movement that happened, including the bouncing of the bed that occurred when Cas rolled towards him. He felt the warm body pressed against his, and loved the feeling.

Dean knew it was only about 7 o'clock, but he was completely exhausted from the previous night, so he put his arm around the angel's shoulders without thinking, feeling the body snuggle up into his side. He fell asleep like that, with the bed vibrating and his heart pounding from the feeling of having Cas so close to him. When he did fall asleep, it was the deepest, most dreamless sleep he had had in months, thanks to Cas. Thanks to _his_ Cas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Dean. Are you awake?" The first words Dean heard the next morning were spoken in a gravelly voice, instant recognition sparking in his mind. He opened his eyes, only to see Cas standing over him, shirtless and clutching his stomach, his face twisted with pain. "It hurts, Dean. What do I do?" Cas asked, looking like he was in complete agony. Dean sat up immediately, pulling Cas's hands gently away from his stomach with increasing concern. As far as he could see, nothing was wrong, but when he ever-so-lightly touched the torn skin, Cas jerked back and nearly howled in pain. Dean cursed under his breath and beckoned Cas closer again, examining the skin more closely. The cuts looked inflamed and irritated, and Dean had no idea why or how to fix the problem.

His mind was reeling, trying to think of some way that they could help him. Angels were out of the question, seeing as they'd probably just try to kill him again. Obviously no demon would be volunteering to help an angel. Bobby might know what to do... If he wasn't dead. Reluctantly, Dean admitted to himself that there was nothing he could do except get Cas to see a regular, human doctor, one that could give him antibiotics and pain medication.

"I'm sorry Cas, but I think we're gonna have to take you to a hospital. These look really bad, and there's not really anything I can do, so as sucky as it sounds, we should really take you to a professional," Dean concluded after his thorough examination of Cas's torso. The three of them loaded their things into the Impala and drove the thirty miles to the nearest hospital, which took them a while to find, since they were stationed in a tiny town in New Hampshire, right on the coast. None of them said a word as they drove, Sam and Dean looking straight ahead at the road and Cas staring out the window at the passing wilderness. The trees flew by, turning into a bright green blur. Now that he didn't have his angel duties to worry about, he was actually quite enjoying the human world, the parts of it that were covered in beautiful forests, lakes, and mountains, at least.

When they arrived at the hospital, Cas was checked in and told to put on a hospital gown. When he emerged from the bathroom in his gown, Sam and Dean both cracked up, the sight of the always serious angel dressed in a light blue, girly dress thing clearly being too much for their minds to handle. Cas glared daggers at the two of them and walked past them, going to sit gingerly on his bed and eventually lie down. As soon as they saw him begin his painful struggle to lie down, they became deadly serious and rushed to help him, Sam's moose-like strength proving to be helpful.

"Dude, you gotta lay off the heaven buffets," Dean joked, out of breath, "Or whatever it is they feed you up there..." Cas looked at him with his trademark confused look, his brow furrowed and his head tilted to the side.

"Angels don't eat, Dean," Cas pointed out matter-of-factly, and Dean began to try to explain the joke, but then decided it was too much effort and just rolled his eyes. Cas, being the awkwardly curious angel that he was, started playing with the remote for his bed, pushing buttons and widening his eyes in surprise when the bed moved. Sam and Dean sat next to him, watching him with amused looks on their faces. When he had finally figured out how to lay down with his back propped up, Cas nodded, smiling, seemingly very proud of himself. A few minutes later, the doctor came in holding his chart.

"Can you describe to me exactly what happened, Mr... Lars Ulrich?" the doctor asked, looking slightly confused at the name. Dean smiled to himself at the joke. Cas looked a bit like a deer caught in headlights, so Sam spoke up, deciding to save him the trouble.

"He was attacked by an animal in the woods, sir. He was on a camping trip, and at night, he was jumped and torn apart, before his buddies could scare it off. Eventually one of them managed to shoot at it and it ran away, but at this point, nobody knows what the creature even was," Sam improvised. The doctor nodded, made a little note on the chart, and walked over to Cas, looking at the wounds.

"And may I ask who did these previous stitches?" the doctor inquired. Sam and Cas both looked at Dean, who had no idea what to say. Cas saved him though, thinking on his feet.

"A friend of mine did them—he's a doctor in training, and he stitched me up before we came here." The doctor nodded and made another note, taking one more thorough look at the damage before straightening up and placing the chart on the footboard.

"It seems as though your friend did a mighty fine job with the stitches. However, there must have been something on the claws of the animal that tore you up, because there's an infection in the deepest part of the wounds, something that not even a disinfectant would have helped at the time. We're going to give you some antibiotics, but if your body is unresponsive to them, we may have to do surgery to get rid of the diseased flesh," the doctor concluded, and walked out. Dean took a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Are you gonna be okay, Cas?" Sam asked softly. Cas was staring at his lap, not saying anything. Dean looked at Sam and gestured for him to leave, mouthing "thank you" when the moose-man got up and made some excuse about needing something. Dean got up and sat next to Cas on the bed, not really knowing how to comfort him. Finally, he put his hand on the angel's shoulder, at which point he looked up, right into Dean's eyes.

"Cas... I'm sorry. I promise you, you're gonna be fine. We're gonna clean you up, that nice doctor is gonna sew you up correctly, and we'll be out of here in... Five days, max." When Castiel gave no response aside from a deep sigh and a nod, Dean continued. "After we get you fixed up, we're gonna find out how to get those powers of yours back, and then you can get rid of whatever scars they left you with, and then after all that, we're gonna find the guy that did this to you, and we're gonna gank him like the monster he is. Does that sound like a good enough plan?" Dean asked, getting a little worked up. Cas stared at him, seemingly drowning in the planets of green that were Dean's irises.

Suddenly, without warning, Cas grabbed Dean by the back of the head and pulled him in, connecting their lips. Dean's eyes widened, and his lips froze, not moving. Even without his powers, Cas was strong, and Dean had to struggle quite a bit before getting away. When he did manage to get away, he pulled himself away and off of the bed, his eyes wide and scared. Cas had the most hurt look on his face that anyone had ever seen, and Dean couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy, even though he had just been _attacked_ by him. Sam walked into the room at that moment, and upon seeing the two men stare at each other unblinkingly with two very different expressions, he dragged Dean out of the room and into the hallway.

"What the _hell _did you do?" Sam hissed furiously. Dean stared back at him with wide eyes, not even knowing what to say. He was so shocked by what had just happened, and his brain didn't know how to comprehend the situation, let alone tell someone about it. He looked towards Cas, who was looking down at his lap angrily. His heart twinged in sympathy for the powerless angel, and he turned back to Sam, not trusting himself not to run in there and comfort the poor bastard. Sam was still looking at him expectantly, his eyebrows raised and his hands on his hips like the sassy bitch he was.

"Okay, umm..." Dean began awkwardly, rubbing his face roughly before continuing, "He, uh... He kissed me, okay? I didn't do anything to him, I just pushed him away. Sam... I don't know what to do," he pleaded, his deep eyes clearly seeking help from the taller brother, "I don't feel that way about him, Sammy, but I can't bear to see him so hurt." Sam looked over at Cas, sighing. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out how to help Dean.

"I'll talk to him. But I don't think you should be in the room with us..." Sam suggested, shaking his head as he said the last part. Dean nodded, whispering his thanks before turning around and walking the other way, trying to find a bathroom somewhere. After a few minutes of wandering the halls, he found the men's room, and smiled in a manner that might have looked grim and painful to someone else before pushing the door open. The spacious room was empty as far as Dean could tell.

"Even better," he said under his breath. He stood in front of the sinks, watching his reflection silently stare back at him in the wall-length mirror. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the sight of himself, but the image of Cas's teary-eyed, hurt face was burned into the back of his eyelids, which, if possible, was worse. Dean opened his eyes and sighed, splashing ice cold water on his face and shaking his head to try and clear his mind. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. He put his hands on the edge of the countertop and hung his head, eyes closed, trying to think.

A few minutes later, he heard the door open and looked up to see Sam walking towards him with his trademark puppy-dog eyed look. Dean recognized it immediately. "Dude, no. Whatever it is he wants from me, no. You _know _I don't feel the same way, there's nothing I can do to change that!" Dean argued before Sam could even say anything. Sam crossed his arms, sighing.

"Dean, you have to talk to him. All he wants is to talk to you. He won't tell me what he wants to say, but don't you at least owe him this?" Sam reasoned, and Dean scowled, knowing the taller man was right. Dean agreed reluctantly, and pushed past Sam to get out the door. Just before he reached the handle to open it, he heard Sam calling his name. "Don't hurt him, Dean. He's been hurt enough, you don't need to be rude or anything. Promise me you'll be nice," Sam said, and Dean nodded with a determined look on his face.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'll take care of him" With that, Dean walked out the door, and Sam sighed, not knowing what to expect from Dean. He followed suit a minute later, finding his way back to the room in which Cas was staying. Dean was sitting in a chair next to the bed, talking to Cas in a soft voice, his face sympathetic and his eyes understanding. Sam stood outside the door, too far away to hear anything. When Dean saw him, he gave a little smile and went back to listening intently to what Cas had to say.

"I should have known better, Dean. I know you prefer women, and honestly, I don't know what came over me," Cas protested, to which Dean responded with a small smile.

"Cas, it's fine. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. You're our little fallen angel, and I'll take care of you no matter what the situation. You are and will always be my best friend, and I'm not going to let something like this come between us." Cas's eyes teared up again, although happily this time. Dean didn't hate him for having feelings that he had spent years and years trying to hide, and that was the best he could ask for. Sam cleared his throat in the doorway, smiling.

"You two good?" he asked, to which Dean nodded.

"Hey, anybody want me to make a coffee run? I don't know about you guys, but I haven't had any caffeine or food this morning, and you know how I get when I'm hungry and tired! I heard there was a Starbucks a few blocks away, I could go pick up some things," Dean offered, smiling. Cas tilted his head, his eyes narrowed.

"I've never had coffee..." he said in his low voice, and Sam chuckled.

"I'd probably get him something kind of sweet and creamy. And I'll have a large black coffee and whatever kind of muffin you think I'd like," Sam told Dean, who nodded.

"Cas, you want anything to eat? I know you're an angel and all, but without your mojo, do you need to eat?" Dean asked, and Cas thought about it.

"I don't know if I need nourishment to survive, but I don't see why I can't try human food while I'm stuck like this." Dean nodded again and got up, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. When he was satisfied, he walked out of the room, leaving the hospital. He got into the Impala and started her up, savoring the time in which he could blast all the Metallica he wanted without Sam bitching about it. He drove off, the windows down, enjoying the nice day. He started thinking about the conversation that he had just had with Cas, reliving the event in his head as he did frequently with things that happened.

"'_Don't you worry your pretty little head'? What in the name of hell was I thinking?" _He thought, shaking his head in embarrassment. Not wanting to think about Cas anymore, he turned up the music, drumming on the steering wheel, singing along loudly.

When Dean got back to the hospital, he delivered the food and coffee to their respective people, and he was currently amusedly watching Cas take his first sip of a Cappuccino. His expression first showed a confused disgust, but it slowly changed to pleasure as he tasted the creamy, chocolatey goodness that was mixed in with the bitter coffee. He took another large sip, coughing and spluttering when it burned his mouth. He looked at Dean with wide eyes, and Dean looked back with one eyebrow raised.

"Don't you know not to take large gulps of hot things?" he asked, finding the whole situation hilarious. Cas glared at him.

"Just... Give me a napkin, would you? I seem to have spit this stuff all over myself," Cas muttered, looking down at himself. Sam passed him a napkin, and Cas took it gratefully, wiping up the sticky mess with a sigh. When he was finished, he dug into the apple-filled croissant that Dean brought back for him, the coffee sitting abandoned on the table next to the bed. After one bite, his eyes widened, and he took another huge bite, having completely forgotten to be wary about hot food. Luckily, the croissant had cooled down quite a bit, and was just slightly warm, instead of scalding, like the coffee had been.

When the trio was finished with their meal, Sam took the remaining garbage on a mission to find a larger trashcan, since the one in Cas's hospital room was far too tiny. While he was gone, the doctor came in again and checked on Cas's stitches as well as the IV drip, giving him more antibiotics to take via IV.

"So far, the antibiotics seem to be working, but I'll be back in about an hour to check on your progress, Mr. Ulrich," the doctor stated, and left the room. Dean shrugged when Cas looked at him, expecting him to say something.

"What can I say? The man's very matter-of-fact. There's not much to say about that, except for the fact that this means you'll probably be out of here pretty soon," Dean assured the concerned angel. There wasn't anything else to say, and they both sat there a bit awkwardly, until Dean thought of something to say. He made some joke that Cas didn't really understand, but he laughed anyway, pretending to find it funny. When Sam returned, they filled him in on what the doctor had said, and the three of them sat in the room together for the rest of the day, talking, joking, and generally making the most of the day inside.

When it came time for the boys to sleep, Dean convinced Sam to go back to the motel and get a good night's sleep, whilst Dean himself stayed in the hospital, refusing to leave Cas's side. He fell asleep in the armchair that was next to the bed after having stayed up with Cas, talking for hours about anything that they could think about. Cas didn't know he would need sleep, but after having learned as much as he did from Dean that night (Dean had spent hours trying to educate the angel on pop culture, so that he would understand more of the references he made), as well as the added effect of some sort of drug from the doctors, he fell into a light, dreamless sleep, a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean awoke early the next morning, opening his eyes and looking around the room drearily, hissing at the pain in his neck from sleeping in a chair all night. The first thing he noticed was the angel, and as soon as he saw him, he was wide awake, staring at Cas. Cas was reading a book, and he looked up concernedly when he heard a sharp intake of breath from Dean. Cas watched with his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed in concern as the man rubbed his neck, face twisted into a grimace of pain.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas said, to which Dean responded by looking over and nodding in his direction.

"Mornin'. What'cha reading?" Dean asked, and Cas's heart rate sped up upon hearing the "morning voice" that Dean possessed. He swallowed thickly, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. Before the kiss, he had been able to almost entirely conceal his feelings, from his years of blind obedience in the garrison. However, now that he had gotten a taste of the Winchester, even if it was only for a fleeting moment, he couldn't let those little, adorable things just pass by without noticing them. He shook himself out of his thought process when he became aware that Dean was watching him expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"Oh. It's, uh, a book called Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Fascinating, really. I've never read human literature before," Cas stated, turning the book over to look at the cover. Dean tried desperately to control his breathing, freaking out on the inside at how adorable Cas looked when he was intrigued by something that humans created. _No, wait! What am I thinking?! _Dean thought, _I don't think anything he does is adorable! I'm straight! Boobs! Come on Dean, think about boobs!_

"Shouldn't you read the first three books before you read that one? You do know it's a series, right?" Sam asked, walking into the room with three cups of coffee and a paper bag that Dean thought smelled suspiciously like burgers. Cas looked at him, confused, while Dean continued staring at the angel.

"Of course. I've already read the first three. I woke up after about two hours of sleep and didn't know what to do, so I asked a nurse for something to do and she gave me the first book. I haven't put them down since." Sam looked impressed at the amount Cas had read in one night, but shook it off, mentally placing the moment in the category in his head that was titled, "Weird Things Cas Does That I Should Ignore Because He's a Goddamn Angel of the Lord."

"Dean, I brought you a present," Sam announced, handing Dean the paper bag. Dean opened it, pulling out a neatly wrapped yet greasy burger, with another underneath it. He raised his eyebrows, looking at Sam.

"Dude, it's nine in the morning and you're giving me two burgers?" he asked, shocked. Sam scoffed.

"Of course not! One of them is for Cas. I already ate. Besides, they're... Breakfast burgers. They've got meat, cheese, tomato, and bacon, all topped with a fried egg," Sam explained, Dean's eyes growing wider with each topping that he listed.

"Sammy..."

"Yes?"

"I love you so much right now," Dean said, and tore right into it, but not before handing Cas's burger to him. When he handed the warm object over, his fingers brushed against Cas's, and they froze and immediately locked eyes, gorgeously blue orbs meeting the swirly, green galaxies that were contained within Dean. Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, shaking them out of their oddly sexual staring contest. Dean jerked his hand back and tried desperately to clear that moment from his mind, going back to his food and burying his emotions beneath the delicious burger.

Within approximately two and a half minutes, Dean's meal had entirely disappeared, leaving behind only a greasy paper wrapper, an empty coffee cup, and a bit of a stomach ache. Cas was still working on his, unfazed at the amount of grease and egg yolk that was dripping out of the burger and down his arms. Dean chuckled, and Cas looked up at him with his mouth open, as he had just been about to take another bite. The area around his mouth was a total mess, covered in gooey cheese and other things from the burger.

"What?" he asked, completely serious, staring at Dean. Dean burst out laughing, clutching his sides as he nearly fell to the floor. Cas looked to Sam, who was also trying very hard to contain his laughter. Sam pulled out his phone and gave it to Cas, who looked at his reflection on the blank screen and jumped a bit. This only made Dean laugh harder, crouching on his knees on the floor and hitting the tiles with his fist in the fit of laughter. Cas quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped away the mess, his face bright pink with embarrassment.

In a few minutes, when Dean was finally able to calm himself and wipe away the tears in his eyes, Cas finished his meal, incredibly focused on not making a mess. When that was all taken care of, the doctor walked in, and all three of them looked up hopefully.

"The antibiotics are still working, and the infection has all but disappeared. If you like, you can go home today, as long as you take one of these pills with each meal, and we do ask that you come in at least once more, in about a week, so that we can check on the healing of your wounds," the doctor announced, and Cas looked at Dean, his expression somewhere between joy, relief, and excitement. Dean's hard, focused expression that he had been wearing as he listened to the doctor melted, and he smiled softly at the happy angel.

An hour later, they were driving along the freeway, the windows down and Kansas blasting through the speakers. Cas was wearing his signature outfit once again—white shirt buttoned all the way up, plain black tie, black suit coat, suit pants, and miraculously unmarked leather shoes, all tied together with the freshly cleaned trademark trenchcoat.

Sam was driving, Cas in the passenger seat, with Dean lying down in the back seat, curled up in pain, clutching his stomach. Cas looked back at him, and watched with an expression that seemed like it pained him more than it did Dean. A moment later, when the worst of the cramping pain had faded a bit, Dean looked up and grabbed Cas's arm tightly, looking into his eyes with pleading look.

Upon seeing the gut-wrenchingly pained look on Dean's face, he maneuvered himself into the back seat, coaxing Dean's head onto his lap. Just as he was about to protest to the oddly affection position, Dean was hit with another wave of pain, and he curled up as tightly as he could, while Cas gently stroked his short hair. Sam saw this all go down in the rearview mirror, and narrowed his eyes, beginning to piece together some things in his mind: lingering looks, hugs, this specific, slightly creepy moment in the Impala... And he knew what he had to do. He had to get the two to admit their obvious feelings for each other and get it over with, because it only seemed right. And Sammy had the perfect plan.

They were tracking down a case, something that looked demonic, in Iowa. There were demonic omens all over a small town called Gowrie, which didn't make much sense, since it was a tiny, tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately, it was their duty to protect innocent people, so that's why they were flying down the interstate, a moose, a cuddly fallen angel, and a Winchester with stomach cramps from eating too quickly.

When they reached the only motel in Gowrie, a dump of a place, Sam went to check in on his own. Being the devious fellow that he happened to be, he asked for a room with two queen beds, which forced Dean and Cas to sleep in the same bed. He opened the door to their room and walked in with his bag and jacket, placing them on the bed furthest from the door, claiming that bed. When Dean walked in, Sam was sitting on the bed that he had claimed, and Cas was standing there awkwardly. Dean looked back and forth between Sam and the remaining bed, realization dawning on him.

"Oh, no. No no no. Sam, I am _not _sharing a bed with him!" Dean protested angrily. Sam shrugged.

"You could always share a bed with me..." he suggested, knowing full well that Dean would never do that, due to the fact that Sam tended to toss, turn, and kick in his sleep, which caused quite a lot of pain on whoever happened to sleep in the same bed as him. Dean sighed and tossed his duffel bag onto the bed angrily, resigning to his obvious fate. Cas continued to stand there awkwardly, looking almost as scared as he did that one time when Dean took him to a strip club. Trying to act as normal as he could possibly be, Dean dug his shotgun out of his bag and placed it underneath his pillow, rubbing his eyes and yawning. It was almost two in the morning when they arrived at the motel, so they were all pretty spent. Except, of course, Cas.

Within five minutes, Sam was in bed with the lamp closest to his head turned off, and almost thirty seconds after that, Dean heard his breathing slow down and a soft snoring sound emanating from the younger Winchester. Knowing that it would take a miracle to wake him up at this point, he didn't bother whispering as he spoke to Cas.

"Are you just gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna go to bed?" he asked, taking his boots off, as well as his jeans, leaving nothing but a pair of boxers, the Samulet, and his shirt. Cas swallowed nervously and slowly removed his trenchcoat, tie, belt, and shoes, leaving everything else on. As he cautiously got into the bed, he watched Dean cleaning his gun, making sure everything was in working order. As he cleaned, he looked over at the angel, who was sitting straight up and staring at the blank wall ahead of him. His shirt was still buttoned all the way up, and Dean chuckled.

"You know, you could choke yourself on that in your sleep," Dean said, and Cas looked at him, confused. Dean placed the gun underneath his pillow and moved towards the blue-eyed man, reaching forward and beginning to undo the buttons on the shirt. He could feel Cas's warm breath on his face, and could clearly see the tense rise and fall of the chest in front of him. He knew Cas was only expecting him to undo the first few buttons, which is exactly why he kept going, opening the shirt all the way down. When he got to the bottom, he pulled the hem out of Cas's pants, loving the sharp intake of breath that he heard.

He pushed the shirt off of the angel's shoulders, pulling it down over his hands and tossing it onto the floor. He then looked up at Cas's face and saw that his eyes were closed, and his breathing had increased in speed and intensity almost doubly.

"Cas," he breathed in a deep voice. Cap opened his clear blue eyes and stared back at Dean, who was surprisingly close to his face. Dean glanced down at Cas's lips and slowly licked his own, leaning forward ever-so-slowly. Finally, Dean just thought _'fuck it'_ and leaned forward quickly until his lips met those of the angel in front of him. As soon as their lips met, Dean melted into it, noticing for the first time just how soft and comforting Cas's lips were. Cas also melted into the kiss, perhaps even more so, loving the rough, chapped lips of the hunter.

Dean's hand went to the back of Cas's head instinctually, twining his fingers within the hair, pulling roughly and making Cas whimper through the kiss. Dean didn't think he had ever heard a sound as mind-blowingly sexy as that whimper. After a while, they both had to breathe, as annoying as that was, and Dean pulled back, not moving his hand. He looked into Cas's eyes, breathing heavily, and then looked down to see that Cas was sporting a mild hard-on. Dean's eyes grew wide at the knowledge that he had the capability to do that to someone as powerful and magnificent as Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

He was also quite freaked out about it. He stuttered, not knowing what to say. Cas was equally embarrassed, both of their faces bright red. Dean quickly removed his hand from Cas's hair and backed up, his eyes wide.

"I... Sorry," he muttered before quickly turning and lying down on his side, facing Sam's sleeping form. The lamp on the nightstand beside his head was still on, and he reached up and turned it off, blanketing the room in a comforting darkness.

The two of them stayed up quite late that night, facing away from each other, hearts pounding and minds racing, not quite sure what to do about the situation they had gotten themselves into.


End file.
